by Sarah Pointe
“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do about that. We never get our own room.”
And there was some obvious bitterness there.
I nodded. “Okay, thanks.”
I ran further down the corridor, looking desperately for the black and grey and red of the staff employees’ uniforms.
None came into view.
I was much further from the stage and my room than before, so I turned back. This was the worst. Pete was probably at my house, waiting outside. And I was still at the club dressed like a ballerina.
And some animal had probably eaten my pizza.
Chapter 18
After searching the entire hallway, twice, I found a staff member and explained the problem.
She got on her radio to see if my room had been cleaned out.
And she shook her head. “Sounds like they hadn’t touched the rooms. Show me where you were.”
I led her back, but all the doors started to look the same to me. “Uh, it was somewhere in here, but now I can’t remember which one.”
She looked me up and down. “What act were you?”
“I was with Jackson Collins and his parents. The Nutcracker second act.”
“Ah, right. I missed that one. Let’s see. They usually have the nice big rooms, I think.”
“I have no idea. My room was really nice.” Until all my stuff went missing.
We tried a few rooms, but most of them were occupied. Where was Jackson? He would at least know what room I had stepped into.
But they were nowhere in sight either.
And I was so late, so incredibly late I felt terrible. And I considered just staying in my ballerina costume and running there by myself. But that would have been ridiculous.
And I needed my phone back.
So I tugged the staff member with me. “Maybe they’re sitting in our seats again.” I looked from my spot backstage and sure enough, Jackson and his mother and father were watching the next act.
“There they are. See.”
Her eyes widened, I guess recognizing them. “Ooh. You’re with them?”
I nodded. “And I need my stuff back.” Maybe being with them was going to help get some attention around here.
“Could you go ask Jackson which room I was in? Or something? I just really need my clothes. And my phone. And I’m actually really late for something else.”
“You’re going to leave before the awards ceremony?” Her eyes widened like I was committing some kind of sin, but I just nodded. “I’m sorry. I have plans.”
She got on her radio and walked a few steps from me.
Pretty soon we had four other staff members join us. And someone with a nice shiny badge on their shirt. He held out his hand. “I’m Mr. Thomas. How can I help you?”
“I entered my dressing room to change and noticed that my clothes and phone were missing from the room. And then I left, thinking I must be in the wrong room, but saw no other room with any clothes or phone.”
“Ah, this is troubling indeed. Do you know which room you started in?”
I shook my head. “That’s part of the problem, because now all these doors look the same to me and I can’t remember which one is which.”
If he was frustrated or unhappy, he gave no sign. “Very good. Well then, we will just have to find it, won’t we?”
“I would appreciate that.”
We started at one end of the hall and worked our way down to the other end. Some rooms we needed to wait for them to be unoccupied, but most they opened the door, I peered in and shook my head and they moved on to the next.
After about ten doors, he opened one and I nearly squealed. “This is it!” I ran in. My clothes were right where I left them and my phone, with about one hundred notifications on it, was there as well. I turned back to Mr. Thomas. “Thank you. I must have entered the wrong room to begin with.”
“If there’s anything else you need from us while you’re here, you just simply ask.”
“Thank you.”
I smiled and nodded and thanked until I thought my mouth would never say another thing and then as soon as the door was closed, I pounced on my phone.
Six voicemails from Pete. And a whole bunch of text messages. The last saying, “Looks like you’re not coming. Hope I hear from you, ’cause at this point I’m worried.”
My heart sank to my toes. I typed out a quick message. “Pete!” I sent him a selfie. “You’re not going to believe what kept me. I’m so sorry. So incredibly sorry. Forgive?” I sent my most charming hopeful smile and then ripped off the costume.
His responding text did not make me feel as good as I hoped it might.
Is this another fake date?
Sort of, but it’s not like that, more like friends of my mom’s. Where are you?
Home.
Could you come get me?
You still want to go out? It’s after ten. Ten thirty to be exact.
I know. I’m sorry. I need to explain.
He didn’t answer for a while. Not even three dots showed on my screen. And I used the time to get dressed and touch up my lip gloss. Fix the damage to my hair from the crown.
At last, he texted. I’ll be there in five. Send me a ping.
Done. Thank you.
He didn’t answer me, but I knew if I could just see him, if I could explain to his face, that things would be alright.
I slipped out of the dressing room and down the hall and even out the front door without much trouble. Then I approached the valet. “Could you radio one of the inside staff and do me a favor?”
He eyed me a minute and then nodded.
“I need a message delivered to the Collins family.”
When I said their name, the attendant stood taller. “Certainly.”
“Could you tell them I had a wonderful time, but I had to leave for my prior engagement?”
“Consider it done.”
“Thank you.”
I stepped away and started walking in the direction I knew Pete’s car would come.
After five minutes, headlights approached and then stopped in front of me.
I made my way to the passenger side.
He didn’t get out.
I didn’t blame him. I opened the door and peered in at him.
He’d changed into joggers and a tight T-shirt.
I slipped in next to him and for a long moment, no one said anything.
Finally I sighed. And then I told him the whole story. How I had forgotten about Jackson when I said yes to Pete’s date, how his offer to start late had come at the perfect time, but then the evening had moved outside of my control. I told him about Jackson’s interview opportunity and everything.
And he just listened. I couldn’t read his face.
When I stopped, I watched him, and I waited and when he just kept driving, I turned more to face him. “Say something.”
At last he glanced at me and then pulled into a park near my house and stopped the car. “What do you want me to say?”
“Anything.”
“Okay. I’m hurt you didn’t just tell me you had plans.”
“You would have been frustrated.”
“Maybe. But that’s better than keeping me waiting for ninety minutes.”
I winced.
“I see how your intentions were good. That makes me feel better.”
Hope fizzled up inside.
“But I’m not really wanting to keep pursuing this if I’m gonna be competing with your schedule of fake dates with a hundred different guys. Either you’re interested in seeing where this goes or you’re not.”
I knew I’d messed up. I knew It was super not cool to leave him waiting. I knew I was at fault. But something about what he’d just said bothered me.
“Pete. I’m really sorry. I will never do that to you again. But remember these are commitments I made before I even knew you the second time. They’re things I wanted to do. People I wanted to help out. And you just don’t really get to say what
I do about them.”
He went very still for many minutes.
And then I whispered, “Pete?”
But he shook his head. “I understand.” He turned his key again.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you home.”
“That’s it?”
“Well, it’s too late to do what we planned.”
We rode in silence for a moment more.
“If you want, we can try again tomorrow?”
I squeezed my eyes tight before I answered, dreading every word that was about to exit my lips.
“I have plans tomorrow.”
“I see. And Sunday?”
“Plans. But these were set up earlier.”
“Is your entire holiday booked?”
I was about to say no, but then realized it was. “I’m going to cancel all those plans. It’s on my schedule for today.”
“And this weekend?”
“It feels kind of low to cancel so last-minute.”
“I wish you were more concerned about feeling low about leaving your man in front of your dark house for an hour.”
I couldn’t even be happy about the fact that he called himself my man.
“I do. I’ll cancel. I’ll figure it out.”
“I just don’t think we can be anything, a couple, or even find out if we want to be a couple, if we can’t spend time together. I had reservations. I had plans. I put a lot of work into tonight.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” I couldn’t keep saying I was sorry. But I didn’t know what else to say. I was truly sorry and really messed up, but the bulk of my mess-up wasn’t even my fault.
He nodded. “I’ll have to think about it.”
What did that mean? Think about what?
“Great.”
He pulled up in front of my house.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“You’re welcome. Can you get in? The house is still dark.”
“I’ve got the garage code.” I turned to him, wondering if maybe we would hug? Maye he would get out, but he just sat there.
And so I got my own door and let myself in my house.
And my mom was not home. I couldn’t even think about what that meant she was doing. No noise came from Trey’s room.
The guy I wanted to be my boyfriend was mad at me.
And I’d let down Jackson and his family by leaving early.
And the one person I’d want to talk about it with didn’t even feel like my friend anymore.
Chapter 19
But by the time I was dressed and ready for bed, I knew I wasn’t going to sleep at all if I didn’t talk to Pete.
So I called him.
He answered right away. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”
“I feel terrible. I can’t sleep.”
Was that good news? “Me too. Are we gonna be okay?”
His sigh was long. “I don’t know. Do you have some time to hang out with me?”
“I will.”
“So you haven’t cancelled your dates yet?”
And here’s where we left things before. He wasn’t my boyfriend. He had no right to demand I clear all my previous plans for him. But they were just fake dates. But they were real people behind the fake dates and that’s what I’d come to realize through all this. Fake or not, people were involved, and they mattered too.
“I’m working on it.”
“Then there really isn’t anything to say yet.”
“I guess not.” My tone sounded just a little snarkier than I meant.
“Well, I can’t be trying date you for real when all you seem to have time for is a bunch of fake dates.”
“I get that. I do. And tonight was just crazy unfortunate. Like the worst luck ever.”
I wanted to talk about Winter Formal. I wanted to let him know I’d had big plans for our night, too. But in that minute, with him still mad at me, I just didn’t even know if I wanted to do anything with him.
“I guess you just let me know when you have time for me.”
“Fine.”
“What do you mean fine? What do you want from me here?”
“I don’t know. Nothing. Everything. I mean, can’t we talk? You act like we aren’t even anything until I cancel all my plans for you.”
“We’re whatever we are. We’re talking right now, aren’t we? I didn’t say anything about not talking.”
“But you’re…”
“I’m frustrated. You left me waiting. And you don’t have any days free.”
“We’re just repeating ourselves.”
“I know.”
And so, he was right. I should really just reach out when I had time for him.
“Okay fine. Goodbye.” I clicked to hang up before I heard what he had to say to that. And then I tossed my phone on the bed.
I heard noises downstairs. And then a deep male voice.
And then my mom’s...giggle.
And I wanted to hide in my closet.
But instead, I crept to my door to crack it open and listen, wondering if the sound would carry.
“She’s out tonight. Trey is sleeping at a friend’s. I think we have another hour or so. Come in.” Did her voice sound…like suggestive?
I almost threw up in my mouth. And then I closed my door, tight. So tight. As tight as it could be, but it wasn’t tight enough. And I climbed into bed and threw blankets on my head. And put in my AirPods. And cranked up my music. And curled in a ball.
That’s how I stayed until morning.
I woke up feeling kind of dead to the world. It was almost noon. And I had an afternoon date to shop at the mall.
And then that night I was supposed to go look at Christmas lights.
And I didn’t want to do any of it. At all.
And I didn’t want to go downstairs. I really didn’t want to see my mom. At all. So I hid in my room. I got ready as quietly as possible and then snuck out the garage door.
I texted my afternoon date, Alex, that he could just meet me at the mall. And I pulled out of the garage.
Thankfully, I made it before Mom even made a peep anywhere. On the way, Sasha called.
“Hello?” It had been so long since we’d talked, like really talked, I wasn’t sure how to even greet her.
“Hey.” Her voice sounded shaky.
“You okay?”
Her breath shuddered. “No.”
I pulled over. “Where are you?”
“I’m at Nick’s. But he’s still asleep. His parents are out of town.”
“Want me to come get you?”
“No. He’ll drive me home….”
I didn’t know what she wanted here. “What’s wrong?”
“We…We almost did it.”
I waited. The almost part sounded confusing, maybe concerning. I don’t know. This whole thing was way out of my comfort level.
“He…didn’t want to stop.”
My alarm rose. But before I could think of what I was supposed to say to that, she hurried and added, “But he did. He was good about it even though I knew it was really hard for him. But…I was scared.”
“I can come get you.”
“No. No. I need to stay. But let’s talk tonight. Can we? Nick’s having a guys’ night and I miss you.”
“Sure.” I had plans, but this was Sasha. She needed me.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. And good for you. You don’t need to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
“Yeah. ’K bye.”
I started up the car again. And I just really didn’t even know what to do, say, or think.
The mall was more annoying than anything. And I decided I didn’t like shopping, at all. Especially not with someone I didn’t really know who was looking for gifts for people I didn’t know.
After giving my opinions about all kinds of fuzzy socks, bath bombs and shirts, I was about ready to call it a day.
And then he said, “This has been such a great d
ate. I’d love to try this again. What’s your schedule like?”
But I shook my head. “Oh, you know what? I’m already booked out.”
“You are? Wow, I was lucky to get the one date then, I guess.”
“Well, turns out lots of people are looking for people to spend time with during the holidays.”
“Are they?” He seemed to be thinking, and I took a good look at him. He was a good-looking guy. In my high school he could get a date, no problem, so I added, “You should try it. Just ask a girl out. You don’t have to want her as a girlfriend yet, just see where it goes.”
The grin that spread across his face would have melted many hearts, but not mine, since mine had already melted for Pete.
I called my next fake date on the way home. Carlos. It went to his voicemail. Dang. But I left a message anyway. “Call me when you get a minute. My best friend is really hurting right now, and I need to cancel our date.”
When I hung up, I realized cancelling wasn’t that difficult. So I called the rest of my fake dates and cancelled every one of them. The more my weekends freed, the better I felt. Until when I got home, I was almost smiling.
But I knew my mother was in there somewhere, and she would want to talk about her date, or maybe she wouldn’t talk about her date. Either way. I just wanted to avoid the awkward.
Thankfully, she wasn’t home when I got there. So I started making Sasha’s favorite cookies and put some bags of popcorn in the microwave.
The door opened. “Hidey HO!” she called out. Only Sasha would do that. And I laughed. Then I peeked my head around the corner. “You’re here?”
“I’m here.” She looked hesitantly at me for a minute and then ran into my arms.
We hugged, kind of rocking back and forth for a long time. She sniffed. And then again. And her body started shaking.
And this made me cry, too. And pretty soon I knew we were going to be sopping wet. But I didn’t want to let this go. As sad as it had been, it felt so nice to be back with my best friend.
The oven beeped.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“Snickerdoodles.”
“Oh, you are the best.” She laughed and slipped an arm over my shoulder like we used to walk everywhere. It felt nice, and a bit young, but nice. “Popcorn is ready. And Netflix is all fired up.”
